The Curious Case of Braveheart.

Saturday, 7th of March, started of as a normal day. Dad asked me to get his laundry done. Friends asked me where do we go for lunch? I asked myself what am I doing with my life? Little did I know that I would get the answers to all my profound questions that day.
Neha called me frantically. She asked me to rush to Pashan for a rescue. She also said that there were people beating a dog to death, with sticks. The key was in the ignition when she was in the middle of the sentence. Parinit drove like a maniac, and I felt like today I will kill. I asked Parinit to run all the red lights. I looked for some sort of a rod or a huge stick in the back of his car. He told me later on in the day that he asked me to remain calm. I never heard it. By the time we reached, Neha and Sunil were already there. Their faces looking grim. I couldn't feel my legs. As I walked through the mob, Neha lookd at me and said, 'She's gone.' I could have collapsed. I felt like all the energy in my body was sucked out. I felt weightless. I saw her lying on the ground. She looked like she was at peace. Like she was in a better place. A place where there is no hunger, no greed, no anger, and no death. Neha and Sunil gave me a brief about what had happened before we reached there. I could not wrap my mind around what they were telling me. I heard a man complaining. 'SHE BIT ME. SHE BIT ME!!' he was yelling. When asked to show his wound, he displayed what looked like a 10 year old mosquito bite. He was clearly lying. The dog who died was small, thin, and was just looking for food. I couldn't help but notice a petite woman. She looked like she could've taken the world on that day. Her name was Anita. She was accompanied by her husband and her friend. I kept wondering why they have this halo over their heads? Like I said, all my questions were answered that day.
The day seemed longer than it was. Our hearts were full, our eyes were dried out, and all we wanted was justice. All I could think of was if there is a God, today I would know. Neha had called the police, and she had also notified Manoj Oswal of PFA (People For Animals). Luckily enough, the right people were at the right place, at the right time. We all know how often that really happens. The witnesses were appalled with what they had to see, and the ones who heard about it could not even imagine the pain and the suffering of the dog, who Sunil has so precisely named, 'Braveheart'. And the ones who commited this heinous crime, either vanished or were in complete denial. The security guards of the DRDO Complex. I can't get over the disturbing paradox in this situation. The men who did this were 'SECURITY' Guards. They are supposed to protect. The sticks in their hands were to be used on those who take advantage of innocent lives. They will suffer. And their suffering has already begun.
My mind kept wandering. I imagined myself in the place of Braveheart. I thought of how much pain she must have been through. I also wondered why, just why did she not run away when the first blow landed on her? Again, all my questions were answered that day. I wished I could put those men through the same pain until they gave up. I wished that Braveheart was alive when we came there, so we could have saved her life. Anita told me, with that heavy yet strong heart, that when she arrived there, Braveheart was wagging her tail, and the people were still beating her with sticks on her head, and on her neck. And a mob of about 30 people were just watching, some even cheering the culprits on. I asked myself, What has this world come to? I felt like some one just shot me right through my heart. I told Neha, that if this is how people are going to kill the dogs, we might as well just start euthanising them all. It's a Man eat Dog world.
We felt a little better when Manoj and the Police, took appropriate actions, and also when the witnesses stuck by us and more importantly stuck by Braveheart, till the very end. We finally took Braveheart for her post-mortem, which was conducted by Dr. Lokhande, who very graciously obliged even though it was his holiday.
When She was lying in our car, I felt a tear rolling down my cheek, but I curbed it. I told myself I won't let her down. I knew I was with a team of people who will fight with all their mights and only stop when we hear a sigh of relief.
Braveheart was not just an incident to remember, or just another press article. She was an impact on all our lives. She made us stronger, she made us realise we all have a purpose on earth, she told us with her wagging tail, that we must not live each day as 24 inconsequential hours. We are here to help those who can't help themselves and in the process of doing this we need to raise ourselves. When I asked myself what I am doing with my life? She told me I am helping her, and many more like her. I am saving lives for a living, and I get paid with wags, licks, and blessings. She told me people envy me, because unlike them I have found my calling, and every night I sleep with a smile on my face. When I wondered why Anita and her companions had a halo over their heads, she told me it was because God sent them there so that they could witness the injustice and make a noise about it. It wasn't a mere co-incidence that Anita knew Neha's number and profession before hand. It was all meant to be. She said they were her Angels. When I asked her why she did not run away when the first blow landed on her? She smiled and said, pain is in your mind. When you tell yourself something doesn't hurt, it just doesn't. She said she looked at all the people around her and decided to wait, because they needed to learn. And if it took one life for many others to realise the value of all things living, so be it.
Braveheart lived a small life. But a life that was so much more meaningful than the kind of life we live. We have to stop with all this self-indulgence and shake ourselves every morning, just to remind ourselves why we are really here? Is it because of all the money? Where does that take us, besides all the parties in town? Or is it because of all the fame? What does that bring us, besides fake friends and true enemies? None of this will satisfy us as much as a peaceful sleep after knowing the difference you made in someone's life.
So, wake up. Look into your mirror and question yourself, until you find an answer that brings you that peaceful sleep. Afterall, Braveheart gave up her life so that you could find your's.